


Between the lines

by Fastpacing



Series: A little less Kingsman, a little more KND [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bike Gang AU, Fluff, Humor, M/M, and way more dialogue, call call call au, look if u know me u'll know this has way less action than it should, rating is mostly for exaggerated cursing and potential violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16356500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fastpacing/pseuds/Fastpacing
Summary: You got your three standard biker gangs. You got the Suits, the Retros, and the Punks. All running their own part of town, all doing things their own way, all enemies.Supposedly.





	Between the lines

**Author's Note:**

> That one call call call au I started ages ago but am only now continuing-
> 
> If you got no clue what I'm talking about, you can check that one out [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875133)
> 
> Twitter [@fastpacingg](https://twitter.com/fastpacingg)

 

 

“Ah, I love easy money.” Jeonghan smirked as they watched the large black SUV drive away, leaving behind a fat dark suitcase that screamed 'expensive' in Minghao’s hold.

 

“You love any kind of money.” Minghao let himself snicker, his mood considerably lifted due to the large sum of money they happened to make in one night.

 

Well, actually it was a product of several nights. And perhaps that would sound a bit misleading to the wrong ears, but what it meant was that they’ve been working for this for a while now. Paying attention to the talk on the street, getting into the right clubs, and of course, meeting with the right people.

 

And when the right people talked, they spilled all the best information.

 

“True.” Jeonghan granted as he returned to his bike, an unashamed smirk plastered on his face. “But blackmailing politicians is the best kind of money. I don’t know, it just smells…” The older inhaled deeply, letting the air out with a satisfied grin. “Sweet.”

 

“Really? ‘Cause I smell mold.” Jihoon scoffed, probably referring to the old decaying office.

 

“Alright, that’s enough for tonight.” Wonwoo called out, climbing back on his bike as well while combing his hair back with his fingers. “Come on, we can get some pizza on the—“

 

Minghao had only gotten on his own bike when they heard the telling noise of motors, or weak excuses for such. They did not roar like a Harley or even zoomed like a Honda CB750, no. Instead, they sounded like those little stupid excuses of scooters half rich people give their nieces on their 18th birthday or some shit.

 

“I can’t _fucking_ believe it.” Wonwoo groaned out, watching as the group of four suited men came in through the ramp, properly blocking their way out. “Seriously?”

 

It wasn’t long before they all stopped in front of them, side by side like four stupid little pawns. God, Minghao hated them.

 

“Evening.” Their leader greeted with his practically permanent tone of superiority. His hair barely moved when he removed his helmet, the rest of his minions following close.

 

“Why the fuck are you here? This isn’t your turf.” Minghao practically spat.

 

“What? Can’t we just want to meet?” Seungcheol, or S.coups— the single most ridiculous alias Minghao had ever heard— smirked, and it made the Chinese want to punch him even more.

 

“I know you're obsessed with my ass, Seungcheol, but you’ll just have to watch it as it drives away like everyone else.” Minghao would truly be disgusted by Jeonghan’s flirting if it hadn’t managed to twist Seungcheol’s expression from a smug grin to a disgusted scowl.

 

“Just hand us the money and we can all be on our way.” The suits’ leader spoke as if his tone was final.

 

“It’s our money, get your own.” Seokmin’s replies were almost cute sometimes compared to the shit they usually spewed, but that didn’t mean the boy was any less annoyed.

 

“Seok’s right, we won it fair and square. Fuck off.” Jihoon backed him up.

 

“You won it illegally.” The chubby cheeked one, Seungkwan, felt the need to correct them.

 

“Blackmail is barely illegal.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes, leaning over the handles of his bike like a student waiting for the class to be over already. "Is more like a business deal than anything else."

 

“Plus, they won it illegally, so what’s the difference if we take some of it?” Wonwoo pointed out, still very much logical despite his clear displeasure. “At least they have less now. If you really think about it, we’re actually doing a good deed.” He smirked with such spite it almost made Minghao himself hate him.

 

“The money doesn’t belong to you.” Seungcheol insisted, patience evidently running low. “So hand it over or we’ll just take it from you ourselves.”

 

“Doesn't belong to you either. If you think we're just handing it over you're dumber than I thought.” Jihoon teased, brow perfectly raised.

 

It was then that the giant idiot felt in the right to speak. The one with legs far too long and a grin so smug it put Seungcheol's to shame. Fuck, Minghao hated him. From his stuck up attitude to his ridiculous polished shoes.

 

Kim fucking Mingyu.

 

“We already kicked your ass once this month, but I’d be glad to do it again.” He got off his wheels to approach them, hands in his pockets as if he was the boss of something.

 

Minghao scoffed, getting off his own bike as well while holding the suitcase over his shoulder, eyes aimed at that giant piece of talking dump.

 

“You mean you ganged up on him.” He pointed out, lips curling at one corner. “Come at me one on one, princess. Let’s see if you manage to get a hit.”

 

The level of satisfaction Minghao got from Mingyu’s brows twitching in annoyance was indescribable.

 

“Tough talk from the guy with long hair, Sandy Olsson.”

 

“Who?” Minghao frowned, genuinely confused by the insult.

 

“The girl from Grease.” Seungkwan promptly provided.

 

“Wait, Sandy before or after going bad?” Seokmin asked then, clearly missing the point.

 

“ _Seokmin_.” Minghao glared at the older, trying to get him back on track.

 

“What? Bad Sandy is kind of a badass, just sayin’.” His friend shrugged.

 

“Just,” minghao did his best to control his urge to throw the suitcase at his face, instead directing his attention back to his main source of annoyance at that moment. “Let’s get this over with already.” The dark haired put the suitcase down on the ground before getting even closer to the taller, cracking his knuckles.

 

Mingyu let out a chuckle, or as Minghao liked to call it, the most obnoxious sound he ever heard in his life. “Gladly.”

 

The dark haired snickered, and perhaps a fight wasn’t in the plans for today, but he was kind of in the mood to beat Mingyu to the ground now. Just the little joys in life that made it all better.

 

However, when he was measuring the other up and down, smirking at his attempt of looking intimidating, he heard a distant, distinct rumble. Minghao blinked, looking around at the rest of the posh group.

 

“What, you running away?” That was coward even for them.

 

“It’s not us.” Soonyoung frowned.

 

“It’s not us either.” Jihoon pointed out, both groups looking around to try to figure out who the hell was making that sound.

 

It seemed to get louder, too. And though most of them were expecting someone to come through the ramp, the noise didn’t appear to come from that direction. It wasn’t channeled or echoing. It was muffled yet clear, getting louder and louder by the second.

 

Wonwoo’s lack of patience was evident when he spoke, looking around. “Who the fuck is making—“

 

In a second, the drywall behind them suddenly blew open, pieces of cardboard and rubble flying around as a bright red motorcycle made a hole through the damn wall, drawing everyone’s attention.

 

“What the fuck?!”

 

 

——

 

 

“How the _fuck_ did they do that?!” It was the first thing Jeonghan asked when they got to their headquarters, right after kicking the door open and properly slamming it against the wall. “How the hell did the nineties, of all people, grab our money?!”

 

“Actually, I’m pretty sure they’re more like eighties.” Seokmin’s reasoning did not come at a welcome time.

 

“Do I look like I give a flying fuck what decade they dress as?” Jeonghan inhaled deeply, trying to muster the little amount of patience he still had left. “What I care about is how the fuck did they get our fucking money? That was ours!”

 

They had that in the bag, literally. Or perhaps not so literally, given it was a suitcase. Either way, they had it. Their group had got it fair and square too. Just a little bit of blackmailing of some big shot CEO.

 

But of course, Seungcheol and his gang of pompous looneys had to show up. And as if that wasn’t annoying enough, Vernon managed to pop his way open through a fucking wall and steal the case right out of their hands.

 

“They wouldn’t have gotten it if Minghao hadn’t been eye-fucking Mingyu instead of getting the hell out of there.” Jihoon accused as he threw himself on the old leather couch, Jeonghan taking one of the chairs to sit on it backwards, crossing his arms over the back of it.

 

Minghao scoffed, eyes barely visible under his long black fringe. “The only way Kim Mingyu is getting close to this,” he gesture to himself as if he were prime tier meat, “is in a fucking fight. I have _taste_.”

 

“Does that taste include tall tan men with two brain cells?” Seokmin snickered at the younger, skillfully dodging the comb thrown his way.

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“Yeah, give him a break. Sharing space with Mingyu probably made him a few grades dumber.” Jeonghan smirked.

 

“Y’all on my ass for arguing with Mingyu when Jeonghan was the one flirting with Coups.”

 

“Excuse you,” Jeonghan scoffed, pushing his hair back. “I totally behaved this time. It’s not my fault Seungcheol is obsessed with me.” The eldest rolled his eyes, much like a popular girl complaining about attention.

 

And yes, he liked getting on that guy’s nerve. Maybe it was even one of his favorite things, but he had truly behaved this time. He was still annoyed the Poshies had attacked Jihoon, after all, and his loyalty spoke louder than the will to pester Seungcheol.

 

“Is that how he knew we were there? Because he’s obsessed with you?” Jeonghan didn’t miss the tone of accusation in Wonwoo’s voice, but he also didn’t take it personally. He had a good relationship with their leader, the two had basically founded their little gang of misfits.

 

“I got no fucking clue. You know those prim asses love barging in on our business.” Something about stopping illegal activities, keeping the city clean, that kind of bullshit. “What I wanna know is how the hell the Retro’s knew we were there?”

 

“That _was_ weird.” Seokmin agreed, now leaning back on the desk next to Jeonghan. "They usually don't even care about this stuff."

 

“Weird is not enough. Did anyone spill?” Wonwoo asked out, and again, none of them were afraid of his tone. They were a gang, yes, but more like brothers than hustlers.

 

Jeonghan wouldn’t say he told them everything, but he never lied about things that mattered. More importantly, he definitely never snitched. And he was sure they could all say the same.

 

“Why the hell would we spill? We’ve been working for that dough for ages.” Jihoon practically spat, still bitter about losing the money.

 

“Perhaps they just found out.” Seokmin suggested with a shrug. “Or maybe someone in the Poshie’s spilled.”

 

Jeonghan groaned, throwing his head back. “We’re talking about the Retro’s. They wear fanny packs and have light up sneakers. They don’t have the brains to figure that shit out.”

 

“Don’t underestimate them, hyung.” Minghao practically sing-sang, having already gotten his nunchuck out of God knew where to start messing with it.

 

“The fuck does that mean?” The older raised a brow.

 

“I mean, just because they have the worst fashion ever that doesn’t mean they’re bad.” Wonwoo was the one to remind him now, and sure, it made sense. Joshua, for example, was one of the smartest guys he knew. And Dino was a quick learning little fucker.

 

“Their leader is Wen Junhui.” Jeonghan reminded them, raising a brow. “The guy is the human equivalent of Big Bird.”

 

“He _looks_ like the human equivalent of Big Bird.” Minghao corrected him, jumping off the couch and shaking off his jacket. “I knew him, remember? Junhui looks clueless, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s not their leader for nothing.”

 

Minghao spoke like a wise man, as if he wasn’t two years younger than him. Jeonghan simply pursed his lips however, jaw clenching in annoyance.

 

“Remind me again why you didn’t join them instead?” He let out a light scoff, along with a curl to the corners of his lips.

 

“The day you catch me wearing neon orange and slime green you can hand me over to the poshies so they can stick me in jail.” Minghao pointed at him with the nunchucks before snickering.

 

Jeonghan knew that wasn’t anywhere close the real reason, but he wouldn’t blame the kid if it was. Their lack of color coordinating was atrocious.

 

 

——

 

 

Perhaps it wouldn’t seem like the most obvious thing for those who didn’t know him. After all, the soft cheeks and delicate hands barely said ‘mechanic’. Yet it truly was one of his passions. And something he was pretty good at, in his not so humble opinion.

 

Yes he liked the missions, and working with the guys, though Mingyu did get on his nerves from time to time. And of course he liked the outfits. How couldn't he, when they made his ass look sublime?

 

However, he digresses. What he honestly liked most at the end of the day was settling down in the garage while taking care of his beloved Yuna, the green scooter he named after the incredibly talented figure skater. What? He appreciated the arts.

 

The garage was just one they rented a couple of blocks not too far from their headquarters. It was where he kept all his bike-related junk, and where he worked on their bikes. Out of his suit and in the simple attire of a t-shirt and jeans — because he was still better than sweatpants — he sat next to his bike, checking on the engine just to make sure everything was working properly.

 

It was then that he heard a very familiar sound in the distance, one he had already heard once that day and was not looking forward to hear it again. Seungkwan stood up quickly, using his dirty rag to wave away the rider that was aiming for his garage.

 

"No, no, no, you are not welcome here!" He huffed as his voice barely won over the sound of the engine. Even with the helmet on, Seungkwan knew the other had at least seen him, but Hansol was a stubborn idiot who loved taking advantage of his kind nature.

 

"Kwannie!" The boy smiled, bright and gummy as he parked by the entrance, taking off his helmet and revealing his now messy and slightly sweaty hair. Gross.

 

"Don't Kwannie me!" Seungkwan frowned, crossing his arms like a petulant child as the taller approached him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

 

It wasn't unusual for Hansol to stop by once in a while, not even a little bit. However, Seungkwan expected him to at least have the decency not to show up after ruining their plans.

 

"I need to take a look at my bike." He smiled bashingly, scratching the back of his neck, but no, not even his smile would save him now.

 

"The nerve! After your little stunt? You could've hurt Yuna!" Seungkwan was aware that he pouted when he complained, but it didn't mean anyone should take him any less seriously.

 

"I barely came near you–"

 

"Barely–" Seungkwan scoffed, using the greasy rag as a weapon to smack the other on the head repeatedly. "You know how long it took me to clean off the rubble?! I swear to God, Chwe Hansol, if there's one single scratch on my baby–"

 

"Okay- ow, okay, I get it, chill!" Hansol shielded himself with his arms, trying to stop the incoming attacks. "I'm sorry, really, please, I'm sorry!"

 

Seungkwan huffed, but he did cut it out, hooking the rag in one of the belt loops of his dirty yet still fashionable jeans. "Fine. You're lucky she's still as gorgeous as ever." The older bragged as he patted his scooter's seat.

 

Hansol seemed to snicker at that, but he was smart enough not to make any snide comments. "Alright, but could you please take a look at my bike?"

 

One could wonder why the hell Seungkwan would help someone that wasn't even in his own gang, but to be quite fair, it wouldn't be the first time. Nor the second, or third; in fact, he had lost count. But the thing was, despite his better judgement, he and hansol were friends, and it was a way they found of hanging out that didn't get in the way of their jobs.

 

The taller would stop by every now and then, and Seungkwan would tweak their bikes while the two chatted. Sometimes he'd even get a bit of juicy information from the younger. Most of the time it was the other way around, though. Nothing important, just mindless gossip.

 

"I shouldn't, after what you did today." Seungkwan insisted, raising a brow.

 

"Awn, come on." Hansol pouted, blinking his eyes quickly. "Please, Kwannie? You're the best mechanic I know."

 

"You're disgusting." The other looked incredibly idiotic with that look on his face, and Seungkwan had to make an effort not to laugh, so he pursed his lips, trying to seem unaffected. "But fine." He relented with an eye roll. "I can't leave a poor bike unattended, anyway."

 

"Thanks, Kwannie!" The pout turned into a wide smile, and he threw an arm over the shorter's shoulders. "You're the best!"

 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just tell me what's wrong with it." Seungkwan snickered before shrugging him off, allowing the boy to get back on his motorcycle again, with the kickstand still down to keep the bike in place.

 

"It's making this weird sound ever since I busted in on you guys." Seungkwan would be more angry if it wasn't for the complete lack of smugness in the other's tone. "Can you hear that? That weird 'trrr'?"

 

The older paused, tilting his head a bit. "Yeah, I hear it. Sounds like something in the air filter." He gestured for Hansol to get off the bike again, the other promptly turning off the engine and doing so. Meanwhile, Seungkwan grabbed his toolbox from one of the shelves, making his way back to his friend's bike and settling down on the floor.

 

"You got any idea what could've caused it?" The younger wondered out, blinking.

 

Seungkwan took a deep breath to keep himself from snapping at the other, instead settling for looking up at him. "Hansol, I don't know if you are aware, but motorcycles are not build for breaking through drywall."

 

"...Oh, yeah."

 

The mechanic snickered at the other's obliviousness. He had to admit, despite its many frustrations, being Hansol's friend brought him at least a bit of amusement.

 

"By the way, how come you knew the Greasers were there?" Hansol wondered out, sitting down about two steps away from him.

 

"Coups found out, don't ask me how. Probably got something to do with his obsession with Jeonghan." Seungkwan snickered.

 

"What is it with those two, anyway?" The younger frowned. "It's like they hate each other, but can't stay away."

 

"Oh, there's so much more to that. You could write a book on their twisted relationship." Seungkwan mused out while working on the air filter.

 

"What relationship?"

 

"I mean, you know they used to work together, right?" The older hummed, seeing from the corner of his eyes that he got the other's attention.

 

"Wait, back up, what?" Hansol blinked, eyes round and curious.

 

"Well, you didn't hear it from me..." Because that's how it always began, even though Hansol always heard it from him. "But Jeonghan used to be a part of the spy thingy agency Coups was in. Like, way back when. They trained together."

 

"You're shitting me."

 

"Not at all. In fact, I'm pretty sure they were like best friends." Seungkwan continued. He wasn't sure of anything, really. The information he got was always choppy. The one who knew most about it was Soonyoung, and even he wasn't sure what happened. Or maybe he just didn't want to share.

 

"Anyway, they were training together to be like agents and all that jazz, whatever they did over there. But then, for some reason that I don't know, Jeonghan didn't wanna train anymore. I think he fought with the boss or something."

 

"Not surprising." Hansol reasoned, probably referring to the other's temper.

 

"I know right? So basically he wanted out, but he was still best friends with Coups, so he asked him to come with him." Seungkwan continued, cleaning up the filter the best way he could.

 

He could hear a quiet 'oooh' from the other before he spoke again. "And he refused?"

 

"Yep." Seungkwan popped the 'p', putting the filter back together. "So from what I understood, Jeonghan was upset Coups chose to stay..."

 

"And Coups was upset he chose not to." Seungkwan hummed at Hansol's conclusion, nodding a bit. "Wow, talk about unresolved issues."

 

"Tell me about it." The older snickered. "I'm pretty sure they're like secretly wanting to be bff's again or some shit, though."

 

"And now they're dragging Jisoo-hyung along, too." Well, that was new information. Seungkwan had some suspicions, but he didn't know the other was involved.

 

"Alright, all cleaned up." The older concluded, patting the bike proudly before pushing himself up. "Give it a test."

 

Hansol quickly complied, starting the bike and grinning when it sounded as smoothly as it should. "It's perfect."

 

"Well, it's no Yuna, but it's not a bad bike." The mechanic granted, shrugging with a proud grin.

 

"At least it is a bike." Hansol teased, earning an insulted gasp from the other.

 

"Blasphemy!" He hit the other with the rag once again, before shoo-ing him away. "Just get out of here already, before Mingyu shows up."

 

"Alright, alright. Thanks again, Kwannie." The boy slid his helmet on, giving him a wave before starting the bike again. "You're the best!"

 

"Yeah, yeah." Seungkwan rolled his eyes, watching the other drive away with a small grin. "I know."

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> Ok SO like I said in the beginning, this is a continuation of a one shot I posted months ago that's inspired by the call call call MV.  
> If you haven't read that one yet and wanna check it out its right [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875133)
> 
> I have quite a bit thought out for this au and a basic plot, but bear in mind that it'll be mostly focused on their relationships and dynamics instead of actual action.  
> In other words, if you read On the Rough it's a lot like that only more chronological and a bit less serious lol  
> I also don't really have a posting schedule ( ~~or a schedule in general in my life~~ ) but I do post some updates from time to time on [twitter](https://twitter.com/fastpacingg), if you wanna stay posted.
> 
> Also I have a tough time focusing on only one character in these fics, so although the main plot will focus more on about five members, the fic itself will revolve around all of them, mostly.
> 
> Basically I got no clue what I'm doing and I'm figuring out as I write lol ~~what else is new~~
> 
> Anyway, I always check before posting but if you see any typos, please don't be afraid to let me know!
> 
> And feel free to let me know what you thought of it! I love reading comments, srsly, they always motivate me so much and help me figure out what I wanna do next.


End file.
